Lisa's jeans were always covered in grass stains, from tag with the neighborhood boys, hide and seek kisses behind the oak tree at the edge of their property, dropping off the low-hanging roof to giggle-sneak away with Molly and Sarah, her best friends since kindergarten.

But Baby's jeans never had grass stains. Newspaper ink yes, and once some blood from a paper cut off her favorite book, but never green. And she never dropped off the roof, because she was tucked under her covers at 7:30 just like her parents told her to be.

Now, though, as she runs through the downpour, her and Johnny's laughter blending into one joyful soaking sound, she spies a grass stain and smiles. Maybe it's time to untuck her covers and drop off that roof after all.